by Rebecca Rode
Fifteen minutes later, I trotted downstairs feeling like a new person. My ribs still ached, but I’d taken some painkillers from the cabinet and seen to the scrapes on my legs and feet. There was little I could do about the bruising.
I hoped Legacy would be waiting for me when I reached the living room again, but it was Gram who met me, still in her chair. This time, a pile of blankets covered her lap. On the coffee table sat a plate of steaming potatoes and a mound of pulled meat. I feigned nonchalance, but my stomach betrayed me by releasing a growl that resembled a dying bear’s.
An amused light entered Treena’s eyes. “Sit and eat.”
I knew better than to tell our country’s founder no. I pulled at my shirt sleeves, which didn’t quite reach my wrists, and took my earlier place on the sofa. A few bites in and I didn’t care what Gram wanted to talk about. I wolfed the food down and examined the plate, tempted to lick it clean.
Gram snapped her fingers and told the assistant who entered to bring more. “You ready to talk?”
Ready to listen, more like, if I knew the woman at all. I thanked the assistant and sat back in my seat. “Shoot.”
“You’re the independent type. I respect that. Hawking women tend to fall for the strong ones, and I wouldn’t want anything less for my Legacy. But you need to think about whether you’re the best thing for her right now.”
I nearly choked. “What?”
“My spies tell me Legacy was at your apartment a few hours before the fire started. Since she stomped out in a huff, I’m assuming you had another fight. I think we both agree that’s fortunate considering the circumstances.”
Did she honestly think that didn’t haunt me every second? “I’m well aware of what could have happened, thank you.”
“Do you know who started that fire and why?”
“I have a suspicion,” I said, feeling too defensive to explain my theory just now. Until I knew for certain, I’d let her spies—the spies that had apparently hidden outside my building without my knowing—concoct their own wild stories. How many times had I crossed the neighborhood, making sure I wasn’t followed, thinking we were safe? No wonder that Chadd guy found me so easily.
Gram’s sharp eyes watched me. “We’re both worried for Legacy’s safety. I understood your insistence on your living in solitude. You believed the distance would keep her safe. Now that the danger has drawn nearer, your solution is to run to her and offer protection. I’d like your assurance that it won’t put her in more danger.”
That stopped me. I clasped my hands together and clenched my jaw, thinking for a long moment. Legacy meant everything to me. She was the one solid, real, dependable thing in my life while everything else fell away. But I had no idea how to explain that to a woman who’d practically stopped a world war and assembled a nation from nothing. I felt insignificant under her gaze. A guy from the Shadows, no job and no income, in love with a granddaughter who, for some reason, kept me around. I felt the older woman’s eyes on me, waiting.
“All I can promise is that I’ll protect her with my life,” I finally said.
“And if they take your life and she’s still exposed, what then?”
I clenched my jaw and looked her in the eye. “Then I’ll make sure she has other guards around to back me up.”
“At all times?”
“Always.”
She nodded. “Good. Now, for the other problem. When she came home last night, she wouldn’t say a word and didn’t sleep a wink. I’d like to know what you said to upset her.”
“What I said?” Suddenly I felt like a defendant on trial. Did she have a mental list of my wrongdoings and insufficiencies? “Look, Legacy and I disagree on a lot of things. Sometimes it’s hard for her to not get what she wants. She . . .” I nearly told her about Chadd right then just to show Gram how I’d kept Legacy from harm, but there were a hundred ways that interaction could have gone wrong. I didn’t want to sink myself any deeper. “She has strong opinions.”
“I see.” Gram’s eyes crinkled at the corners, an expression I now recognized as an attempt to hide a smile. “Hawkings have strong opinions about the things that matter—the Rating system, for instance. As a Firebrand, you once pushed for it. What are your feelings now?”
Oh, boy. The way things were going, I’d be tossed out by dusk. Something told me she would see through a lie, though, so I answered honestly. “My feelings have changed plenty, but I do think the Rating system had some advantages over the current system.”
She seemed surprised at my honesty. “Such as?”
“You claim to offer freedom, but we’re stuck in a single profession forever, even if interests change. Everyone wants to climb the professional ladder, but when no upper positions open up, most people get caught at the bottom with minimal income their entire lives. At least with the Rating system, people could work harder to get their scores up and improve their situation.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Go on.”
“Since most of us are relegated to the worst jobs, we get poor housing in the Shadows. That means rolling blackouts and cheap surplus groceries and second-rate medical care. We rely on public transportation and walking to get anywhere, which means we’re often late for work or school. And when positions at work do open up, we have to hide our growling stomachs and worn clothing and put on a fake smile to compete with the upper classes. It almost never works. Not to mention that in the original NORA, your Enforcers patrolled the poorer areas more often to control crime. Here, it’s the opposite. We aren’t worth their time. We’re left to live and eat and sleep in fear.” I thought of the countless nights I’d lain awake in my bed, knowing that if my father came home drunk and ready for a fight, nobody would come to our rescue. I leaned forward. “So it isn’t just individuals who suffer in poverty—it’s their children and children’s children. With all due respect, you’ve caused a generational problem and then punished us for the consequences.”
Legacy’s grandmother watched me, her eyes sharp and calculating.
“You did ask,” I said, sitting back and resting my feet on the coffee table. Then I realized how bad my feet looked and lowered them to the floor.
“You’re right,” she said softly.
“Pardon?”
She raised her voice. “I didn’t fix all the problems. I made things better but not perfect. Legacy has a tough job ahead of her.”
“So you believe she’ll win and take the Copper Office back?”
“I do.”
I frowned. “What about your son?”
An expression of raw pain crossed her face. It reflected my own so perfectly I instantly felt bad for the question.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Gram said, dodging the question. “Eat that second plate of food making its way down the hall right now, then my assistant will show you to your room. You look like you could sleep for ten years.” She pushed to her feet with a grunt, letting her blankets fall to the floor, then kicked them aside and headed for the stairs.
“Would you like me to bring those up for you?” I asked.
She turned and gave me a wide, brilliant smile. “Be careful, Firebrand. I may grow to like you.” She winked, then started up the steps.
Eleven
Legacy
When I stumbled out of my room, I nearly tripped over a body in the hallway. Kole grunted, then pushed himself to his feet, his eyes as wide as his grin.
I stared at him, disbelieving, wondering if I were still dreaming. But I couldn’t have dreamt up the burns on his forehead, the mischievous light in his eyes, or the unfamiliar white shirt with its faded stains. Kole was here. He was okay.
A delighted squeal escaped my throat, chasing away some of the darkness inside. I threw myself at him, nearly knocking him over again.
“Whoa there,” he said, wrapping his so-very-real arms around me. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t contact you afterward. I’m such an idiot. Of course, you wouldn’t know I escaped. There was something I had to take care
of, and . . . did I mention I’m an idiot?”
I wanted to agree with him, but I couldn’t make light of the hours I’d spent worrying I would never see him again. Just like Mom. There one day, gone the next. He wouldn’t understand, and I didn’t want to make him either. Not when he stood here, alive and repentant and wonderful, bruises and burns and all.
“Why didn’t you come in and wake me?” I asked.
He chuckled, stroking my back with one hand. “Your grandmother threatened me with execution by torture if I even touched your door.”
That sounded like her. I stamped down the adrenaline rushing through my veins and let myself melt into him once more. I drew in a long breath, taking in the essence of him. He smelled of soap and the faintest hint of smoke. That brought reality crashing onto my shoulders. “Sounds like you had a tough night.”
He stiffened but didn’t pull away. “I’ve had better.” A lifetime of pain hung heavy in his voice. It reminded me of the first day I’d spoken with him, on the last day of school. He had always seemed different from the other guys, more somber, maybe a little angry. Now that I knew a little more about his background and understood the anger that drove him, I felt more helpless than ever. Kole was an orphan in more ways than one. I’d taken him from everything he ever knew—his uncle, his friends, his former life.
I hoped the trade was a good one. So far, I wasn’t convinced.
Kole pulled back slightly and brushed my cheek with his finger. “What’s wrong?”
I nearly laughed at the irony of his question but gave a heavy sigh instead. Had he missed so much since yesterday? “General Knox isn’t coming. I can’t ask my supporters to fight when they’ve already suffered so much. We’ve already begun to ration meals, and people are sleeping on the floor, not to mention the patients they’ve brought to us are no better than they were before. We haven’t made any strides with the implant problem. I’ve hit one dead end after another.”
He took my elbows and brushed his thumbs across them, sending a delighted shiver through my body. “You supporters joined you to fight, Legacy. They deserve that chance.” He paused. “There’s something else. I think Dane is contacting the Shadow gangs for support. I saw a Firebrand speaking with one of them this morning, and he looked an awful lot like your Chadd friend. I think he’s the one who started the fire last night.”
Dread made me stiffen, but something in Kole’s voice stopped me. “It looked like him or was him?”
A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. “I only saw him from behind, but I’d swear it was him.”
A few days ago, I would have accepted Kole’s word without question. But today something made me pause, and I didn’t like it. Did Kole truly see that stranger from the doorstep, or did he simply want to be right? How much could I trust a mind I loved but knew was broken and growing worse all the time?
I hated this. I hated Virgil for hurting the guy who meant everything to me, especially considering what Kole had given up for me. Most of all, I hated that, for the first time in our relationship, I couldn’t trust him with everything.
“We’ll watch for him, then,” I told Kole gently, hoping he’d drop the subject.
He shook his head. “Not good enough. I talked to the Firebrand he met with. Legacy, I think Dane has orders to kill you.”
That brought us to the last topic I wanted to discuss. I steeled myself, all too aware of his watching for my reaction. “I think you’re right about that.” Then I told him about our harrowing transport chase and escape, leaving out the most terrifying details.
His face grew darker with every word. When I finished, he pushed past me and stalked toward the stairs. “That’s it. I’m having a little chat with Travers.”
I grabbed his arm. “He feels bad enough already. Besides, it was my choice.”
“Until you decide to listen to me about the danger we’re facing, I’m taking that choice away. From now on, you don’t go anywhere without me. I’ve already discussed it with Gram.”
Frustration welled up inside me like bile. “Gram doesn’t get to decide that, and neither do you. I’m trying to run a movement here.”
“Yes,” he hissed. “And we’re trying to help you do it. Don’t make our job harder. We don’t have enough people to win this, let alone chase you around the city when you think you’re invincible. If Alex gets ahold of you again, you’re never coming back.” There was a crazed edge to his voice.
“Your job?” I snapped. “I didn’t know spending time with me was such a burden for you.”
“I stayed away to protect you, not because I don’t want to be with you. I thought if I kept Dane’s attention off you, you’d be safer.” He looked hurt. “Clearly, I was wrong about that.”
An angry retort leaped to mind, but the devastation on his face stopped me. This paranoia—was it the protectiveness of a boyfriend or the fear of the orphan who’d lost everyone else he loved? Did Kole mean to help me win this war or keep me out of it completely? Grandpa Vance had been a steadying influence on Gram, but I couldn’t recall him ever standing in her way. I wasn’t sure what that meant for us.
I switched tactics. “You really mean to follow me everywhere? The washroom, the meeting room?” I lowered my voice. “My room?”
That mischievous light entered his eyes again. He brushed my forehead with a kiss. “Everywhere you’ll let me,” he said in a husky voice, only half teasing.
I stroked his rough jawline, imagining what he had been through since I saw him last. There was something new in his eyes, a kind of sorrow and wisdom that hadn’t been there yesterday. “I’m glad you’re okay,” I told him softly. “Have you seen the physician yet, just to make sure?”
“I’m fine.” He avoided my gaze, which meant he was far from fine. “It’s just that I’m glad you weren’t there.”
I felt his hand slide around my waist, and he pulled me against him once more. Then his lips were on mine, hungry and insistent. I responded by pulling him closer, my hand on his chest where his Firebrand tattoo hid, my fingers snaking up to his neck and through his hair, and then there was only him, everywhere and always.
Voices sounded downstairs, demanding my attention. I reluctantly pulled my head away, gasping for breath, but Kole moved to my cheek, my throat. If I didn’t stop him, we’d go on forever. There was work to be done.
Someday the fate of thousands of people wouldn’t stand between us. I longed for that so desperately I could hardly breathe.
“Well, at least we still have this,” Kole said, his voice raspy. “After last night, I wasn’t sure.”
“Neither was I.” I didn’t want to talk about last night ever again.
He watched me sadly. “This movement isn’t the only thing that’s broken, is it?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. Our fighting seemed to dominate our conversations these days, and I saw no end to it in the future if Kole truly meant to follow me around like a trained dog.
“Broken things can still be beautiful,” I told him.
He looked at me in wonder. “You’re absolutely right.”
But before he could continue, a pounding on the stairs drove us farther apart. Foster appeared, breathless. He gave a quick bow that looked more like a bob. “Your Honor, I have news.”
“Kole is alive,” I said for him, sliding out of Kole’s arms. “He’s fine.”
Foster barely spared him a glance. “No, Your Honor. Something else. Something bad.”
The panic in his eyes sent my heart galloping again. “Yes?”
“It’s the warehouse, Your Honor. It’s been attacked.”
Twelve
Legacy
I tore my harness off and threw open the transport door to leap out before we even stopped, earning a frown from Travers. He’d insisted on using a worn transport at least fifteen years old and surrounding us with other vehicles full of guards. The ride here had been agonizingly slow. I stumbled to a halt in front of the smoking hunk of wreckage that had once bee
n our lab and temporary hospital. It looked as if someone had set off a bomb. The building’s remains were charred and smoking, and a relentless heat radiated from the heap of rubble. Even the building next to it sported black walls and a partially melted roof.
A crowd stood behind a makeshift barrier near the narrow road that led to the main street. It seemed like half the neighborhood. My guards jumped out of the car and either took positions along the barrier or headed for the wreckage to look for survivors.
I could barely stand here, a dozen meters away, without the heat singing my flesh. There wouldn’t be any survivors.
My brother’s message was loud and clear.
I will destroy everything you build. Stand down, or more people will get hurt.
A figure broke away from the wreckage and hurried toward me. To my disappointment, it wasn’t Millian but the older woman who’d approached her yesterday while we spoke. Her hair was pasted to her head, her cheeks lined with ash.
“The patients,” I said breathlessly. “Are they all accounted for?”
“Every one, Your Honor.” She bobbed her head. “The Firebrands helped them evacuate while they destroyed the lab. The moment our last patient set foot outside, they lit everything aflame. We moved them to an empty house around the corner till we got instructions from you, but we’re missing most of the stabilization equipment, though we don’t have reliable power there anyhow. We’ll need a better option.”
“What about the homeless group that arrived earlier?”
“All fine. They’re there as well.”
I felt all the air escape my lungs. At least that little boy would be all right. As for the comatose patients, Alex had to know that killing the country’s most vulnerable citizens wouldn’t reflect well on him. But our research had been an attempt to help them too, and now it was all gone—along with any chance of helping Dad. The memory of Millian’s neatly organized room with its cataloged experiments and clean tables made me swallow hard. Kole reached my side and took my hand, squeezing it.